All Around Me
by DarkHorcruxGirl1997
Summary: "I can feel you all around me, thickening the air I'm breathing, holding onto what I'm feeling, savouring this heart thats healing..." Make me feel alive again, Damien.
1. Chapter 1

All around Me

Disclaimer: I don't own South Park. I'm simply borrowing Matt Parker and Trey Stone's wonderful characters and using them for my own devices. Also, song credit goes to Flyleaf.

_The intoxicating smell of cinnamon invaded his nose as cold hands caressed his cheeks gently, almost lovingly. A deep, smooth voice whispered in his ear, though he couldn't decipher the words. A comforting heat was wrapped around him and he sighed in pleasure. He shifted some, trying to get closer to whoever this person was when he had the sensation of falling_…

Pip woke up with a start, realizing that he was facedown in the mud. _"I must've dozed off again…really need to stop doing that._" He thought before picking himself up. Pip brushed off as much mud as he could before deeming it as a lost cause, staring in disdain at the stubborn muck that had refused to vacate his clothing. He sighed and started to walk home.

The way home from Stark's Pond was long, but worth it. It allowed Pip to be fully involved in his thoughts without threat of being bullied. The path that he took was surrounded by thick trees on either side and shadowed by their foliage until it was almost black, but very few people knew about it, and that was good enough for him. While he walked, he tried to remember the dream that he had. It was recurring, he knew that and very pleasant. It was a shame that he always woke up from it though, the feelings that he got from it made him feel protected and happy and he simply wished that he could feel that way always.

He soon came across his house. The tiny hovel that he called home was situated out of the town's gate, and thus, no visitors came. That was fine with Pip since he lived alone, and all the bullying that he put up with made him detest people, although he refused to show it. Pip entered, taking in the darkness of the house. He flipped on the light switch. Mismatched furniture of the relatively same shade of brown soaked in the light. To the right of him there was the tiny antenna TV. Staring at that TV was the squashed looking futon that took the guise of a sofa. A coffee table using multiple books as legs made the division between the two. To the left of Pip was the small open kitchen. There was no table, and the mini fridge was half hidden behind the gas oven, but those appliances made sure Pip ate so he took good care of them. He walked, throwing his jacket on the couch and taking his shoes off, heading to the back where the bathroom was. With every step that he took, an article of clothing came off until he was completely stark naked and wiggling his toes at the cool white tiles of the bathroom.

He stepped over to the shower, turning the 'H' knob until it could go no further. He waited until there was a sufficient amount of steaming wafting around the bathroom and stepped inside, relishing in the painful feeling of the water as it pelted and ricocheted off of his skin. He grabbed a waning bar of soap and rubbed it all over himself, loving the way it smelled. He closed his eyes, enjoying the experience of his shower.

After he was done soaping up his body he grabbed for the shampoo, squeezing out a generous amount into his palm and massaging that in his hair. He stepped out of the spray of the water to do this, humming.

Some shampoo got in his eye and Pip recoiled at the sudden and painful sting that it produced. He turned around in a blind daze, arms outstretched. His arm got caught up in the shower curtain and it got yanked from off of the bar, wrapping around his body in a heavy cocoon. He yelled out as he was now falling. He landed underneath the running water, suddenly screaming. He felt as though he were being drowned with lava and spluttered which only succeeding in getting more hot water in his mouth. It burned his tongue and the roof of his mouth and he screamed more.

He was squirming, trying to escape but couldn't. The blanket was wrapped too tightly around himself. _Well that's it…I'm going to die here…_Pip thought miserably. And that damn shampoo was still in his eye. He relaxed, feeling the burning hot tile of the tub around him. His feet were conveniently placed over the drain of the tub as well, causing water to rise up. The cocoon that he was in was slowly staring to flood. Pip whimpered as he felt water rush over him. This was a ridiculous way to go, by all accounts. And with the way he was living no one would find him for weeks, maybe even months….he'd just be a decomposing mess by that time….mouth open in a silent scream with maggots crawling out of two gaping holes that used to be his sockets….

So wrapped up was he in the morbid thoughts that Pip scarcely noticed when the water was shut off; the ensnaring and damning shower curtain was so thick that he couldn't really feel the droplets actually dropping on him. He definitely noticed when he was suddenly lifted up and carried somewhere. Pip's breath caught in his throat, his eyes bugged and dilated. _What the bloody hell is happening?_ _OH DEAR GOD SOME RAPIST HAS BROKEN INTO MY HOUSE! I'M GOING TO DIE!_ Pip squirmed within his confines furiously, coughing up water in his attempt to growl. A rumbling made Pips whole body shake, but it was gentle, like a cats purr. It temporarily stopped him in his struggling to ponder what it was, but he resumed it again with renewed vigor.

He was set down on something spongy, making it increasingly hard for him to wiggle around. There was a tearing sound, like tape being ripped off of a piece of parchment, and suddenly Pip was free from the confines of the curtain. Pip looked around wildly, seeing that he was in his room. He looked around for his savior and possible assailant, but saw no one. The moon was high in the sky and its radiant light shone in through the window. The metal bars on the window created the same affect on his bed. Pip looked down and could clearly see the offending and possibly life ending article. He tossed it away from him in a huff.

He curled up in a ball, feeling definitely spooked. There was absolutely no way that he was leaving his bed tonight…not after _that_…whatever that was…Pip shuffled himself underneath the covers of his bed and curled up on his side, grateful that the sheets were thin. It wouldn't feel right to feel as though he were being smothered again.

He soon fell into a deep sleep.

That night, the dream came to him again, but this strong it was much stronger. He actually heard a few of the words and before dawn awoke, contemplating them.

"_You will soon be mine."_


	2. Chapter 2

All around Me

Chapter Two

"_You will soon be mine._"

The words swirled around in Pip's mind, banishing all other thoughts. He lay on his stomach by the shore and stared into the swirling waters of Stark's Pond for answers. Who would he soon belong to? Why would someone want to _own_ him anyway? The water offered no help or clues, instead spraying him in the face. The water made Pip cough, and he wiped at his face quickly. The pond was unnaturally volatile today although Pip supposed it could've been due to the fact that the weather was changing. School would be starting soon….and then it clicked.

"Those rotten bastards…." Pip muttered darkly. Of course it would've had to have been one of his school mates that would have done something so twisted to him. It's not like they didn't know where he lived. They had chased him home plenty of times to know the route from school by heart. But the only question was, who? It was most likely Eric, the psychopathic turd. Pip huffed, crossing his arms over his chest just as a cold gust of wind blew through the water, earning him another face full of water. Of course they'd want to make him their bitch; they most likely thought that Pip _enjoyed_ being abused.

Well….maybe they had a point. Pip sighed, straightening himself up. When one lives with crap being thrown their way every waking moment of their lives, one either learns to try and live with it or be crushed underneath its weight. He had chosen the former and had basically gotten some sort of deranged form of pleasure from it. He had looked up his 'symptoms' on the Internet last year, when he was just beginning to feel like this and he discovered that in most disreputable circles of the world he would be called Masochistic. That had been a time of great confusion for him.

Pip chuckled, looking up at the gray sky. He saw the swirling masses of dark storm clouds overpower the last of the happy blue sky with all of its tiny white clouds and it gave him an odd tremor. To be honest he hated the thought of him being Masochistic. Why would he enjoy pain and suffering? That was just plain creepy. And then he remembered that he read something that said that people such as that were usually dominated by other people that were referred to as Sadists. That just made him feel downright sick and he literally clamped his hand to his mouth just as a wave of nausea rolled through him. It was just weird to him. To be controlled…no form of free will… He shook his head, clamping his hat to his head when another gust of wind blew past him. Thinking that way would get him no where.

Humming, and feeling a bit more optimistic now that the pessimistic thoughts were cleared, Pip decided to take a swim. He stripped off his coat, cap, and shirt quickly, taking a bit more time with his pants, socks, and shoes. He glanced around to make sure that no one would was watching, but he was alone. Satisfied with his isolation he waded into the pond. The water was icy cold and nipped at his pale legs and he shivered, but trudged forward, soon being waist deep. Pip breathed out air through his cheeks and set to work swimming doing long, quick strokes. Feeling a bit bold, he dove underneath the water. It wouldn't be worth it to try and open his eyes; the water was ridiculously murky, yet safe to swim in. For a time Pip twisted and turned in the pond as though he had been born there but he had not been and as such needed air. He surfaced so that he could get a breath…and couldn't breathe.

At first he simply thought that somewhere along his swim water had gotten in his lungs and so he tried hacking but he still couldn't get a breath in. He could clearly feel himself above the water's surface but air wasn't getting inside him. Pip opened his eyes, trying to see the source. If he hadn't been in the middle of choking to death, he would've been winded.

Everything was gray. It was like a thick mist had rolled into the area yet it was so…._otherworldly_ in a sense. It was so thick that Pip could actually feel it pressing against him on all sides. And it was so warm…like it was alive. He clawed at his throat and swam towards the direction in which he thought the shore was one armed, crawling over the gritty sand when he got there. He was wheezing, flopping around like a fish out of water.

Suddenly, when Pip was face down and still, on the cusp of Death, something cold and hard wrapped itself around his wrists and dragged up and backwards so that Pip was on his knees. His wrists were painfully impaled with something sharp and Pip cried out wordlessly. His arms were yanked behind his back and his hands were brushing against the bottoms of his feet. He found that he could breathe but only just, yet he sucked in air as though it would be the last time he would be able to do so. The air felt warm and damp but it was air and that was all that mattered.

"What the hell is happening?" Pip whispered out when he sufficiently had a good breathing rhythm. He tried to move around but he discovered that he couldn't and whatever spikes were in his wrists dug in more. He winced and eased upon his movements and he could faintly hear chains rattling. Where had the chains come from? Was he still even at the pond? Was he still even _alive_?

"Ah, there you are….so hard to find, you humans." A raspy voice said. Pip wanted to cover his ears; the voice echoed and boomed as though it were coming from all directions, and there was something in his tone that just made him want to scream.

"The Master will be very pleased with me, yes." The voice proclaimed, although it was much quieter than before. Pip tried to look around to see if he could even get a hint of the entity that possessed a voice like that but the mist was still there, clouding his vision.

"I have a message for you, human." The voice said. It shifted from its raspy tunes to something melodic and Pip found himself listening, even though he should have been more concerned on other pressing matters. "The Master wishes to meet you here, soon. He wants to meet you personally, although I don't see why, but Tillie doesn't question the Masters choices, no."

"Wha..?" Pip only managed. There came a sigh and it sounded like paper being set alight.

"Such an idiot…." Pip recoiled suddenly as an object struck his forehead but was smart enough not to move his arms. It was warm, almost to the point of being hot. It was splayed across his forehead and five things were gripping onto his hair tightly so he supposed that it could've been a hand. Or perhaps it was a foot. Something was whispered and a stabbing headache drilled itself into Pip. He felt woozy; his vision was spinning wildly.

"Meet him. Here. Soon. " The now honey sweet voice of Tillie intoned. The hand, or foot, or _whatever _it waswas pulled away and Pip slumped forward. The chains that had been attached to his wrist dissipated as did the mist and Pip was left facedown in the sand with a pounding headache.

After a time he sat up, rubbing his temples.

"What…just happened?" He asked to himself. He remembered going for a swim in the pond and suddenly he was here. He certainly hadn't remembered getting to shore. He looked at his wrists when he pulled his hands away and frowned. Deep, angry red scratches ran around his whole wrists. It wasn't as though he was a cutter…..He shook his head. _Whatever_...He simply thought. He stood up, brushing sand off of his chest as he collected his clothes. He didn't feel like putting them on so he simply held them around his waist and jogged to his house by the secret path. When he got there he slammed the door, sliding down the rough surface. He shook and curled into a ball, breathing out shaky sighs, suddenly feeling scared and nauseous. _Something_ had happened…something unpleasant. But no matter how much he tried to remember, he couldn't and only got a monstrous sized headache as consequences.

Pip stood up, going over to the kitchen. A cup of hot tea, that's what he needed. He got a chipped little white cup and placed a tea bag inside. He put water into his favorite pot and set that on the stove, turning it on and watching as the blue flame sputtered to life. He watched, oddly engrossed, and only the sharp whistle of boiling water brought him out of his trance. He grabbed the teapot handle and poured it into the waiting cup. Some water splashed on his hand and he yelped, releasing the pot. On the way down it sent the cup with it and that clashed to the ground, spilling hot tea across his feet. He yelped as the still hot pot landed on his feet and hot water splashed across his ankles. He scrambled back, slipping on the large puddles on the floor and banging his head on the wall. With his brain's temporarily addled, he didn't notice when his wrists were burning. When he checked them a few minutes later, the scratches on them were glowing brightly.

Faintly, Pip could hear laughter.


	3. Chapter 3

All around Me 

Chapter three

"Nothing's going to happen, nothing's going to happen, nothing's going to happen….."

These were the words that Pip whispered to himself fearfully as he stepped out of his house, dressed in his usual attire. He glanced around seeing nothing but the road to his far left and trees to his far right. The population signed loomed in the distance and he started to make the trek into town.

_You're being paranoid_ his brain whispered. He knew that, _of course_ he knew that, but being a superstitious/God fearing young man, he'd rather be paranoid and do crazy shit than to not and have crazy shit happen to him. He wrapped his arms around himself and kept his head bowed as he sped past the sign, starting to head to the drug store for aspirin. He still couldn't remember what had transpired nearly a week ago at the pond. Every time he tried, he got a splitting headache. And now, even when he wasn't thinking about it, the migraine still raged.

He walked past a few people but they barely spoke to him, much less looked at him. That was fine. He wasn't in the mood for conversation. He turned a corner, seeing his destination at the end of the block. He broke into a light jog. The sooner he got his medication the sooner he could return to his safe and warm house, unbothered by the problems of outside life.

He passed by the alleyway, almost not even noticing it until a pale hand shot out from the darkness and grabbed his right elbow. The hand pulled him into the alleyway and Pip yelped, immediately struggling. Other hands grabbed onto him. He couldn't see; dark fabric clouded his vision. He felt overwhelmed, struggling wasn't helping. He could hear them at least; saying what they were going to do to him. Mostly vulgar things. His headache, which had been more of a light throbbing, exploded into a full blown thrashing and he panicked further still as he felt light headed. He needed to stay grounded, try and fight against the mass of bodies that were now dragging him deeper into the alley. Pip could see through a gap of arms that the light at the entrance of the alley was quickly fading; any hope for help would dissipate completely as soon as they reached the end.

He snarled weakly, trying to kick out and fight back but his headache made him slow. He struggled one last time, yelling out. His cry echoed, but most likely didn't make an impact. He finally relaxed and his captors dumped him on a dirty mattress. The light at the end was a distance speck that seemed miles away. He frowned, holding his head in his hands and curling up on the mattress. He didn't want to look to see if they were going to rape him or kill him; they were most likely going to do both, and not necessarily in that order. He closed his eyes and silently starting praying as he was laid on his back. He felt his shoes get yanked off, but he tried his best to ignore that fact that he was currently getting undressed by complete strangers in a dark alley on top of a positively filthy mattress. He continued to say it, not even stopping when his pants and underwear were torn off. He certainly started to say it faster when he heard multiple flies being undone.

"_Poor, clueless Pip."_ A voice whispered. Pip stopped abruptly and opened his eyes, looking around. All he could see was darkness; then he realized that he wasn't even in the alleyway anymore. He was simply surrounded by darkness.

"Oh that's just bloody perfect. They killed me and are raping my dead body. Just my luck I get kidnapped by a bunch of horny necrophilia's." Pip muttered sullenly. The same voice that spoke chuckled. It sent a chill down his spine. He recognized that laugh. He had heard it before….if only he could remember when….

"_As amusing as that would be to watch, you aren't dead. You aren't even getting raped yet. They're quite slow_._" _The voice said. Pip huffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Who are you and what do you want? Are you God?" He questioned. Immediately after that he felt as though he had been punched in the gut with a hot iron. He screamed, holding onto his stomach, nearly clawing at it. Pain curled him stomach into uncomfortable knots and he whimpered, looking up but being smothered by the black.

"_A little word of advice about me: I'm __not__ God. That…abomination has his own realm to occupy and this is not the place. I'm a much more powerful entity than he his by far. Thanks to you petty humans. Anyway, I'm here to help."_

"Where is _here_, exactly?" Pip asked. The pain had dulled but his stomach was still twisted uncomfortably. He simply couldn't trust a random voice that spoke to him in darkness, for all he knew he could be dead and this could be some random demon wanting to suck the flesh off his bones.

"_Pfft. Don't give yourself that much credit, my dear. You barely have any flesh. You're mostly skin and bones,"_ It could read his thoughts?Pip let go of his stomach and cautiously put his hands up to his ears, cupping them protectively. _"Of course I can you dolt. And I'm not an It, thank you very much. Now, as to where __here_ _is, that's a little ambiguous. For you, anyway. This- for right now, until I find it sufficient enough to visit you, and, hint hint, that shall be soon- is a place where spirits can speak freely while waiting. Like one of those rooms in a hospital. Now, do you want my help or don't you? My hold on your time is slipping and when those people actually __do__ start to rape you, I don't want to be stuck here." _

Pip frowned, un-cupping his ears and letting his arms drop to hang uselessly at his side. This person was most likely his best chance at not getting raped, or killed. He could figure out everything later. _Fine, _he thought, _what do you have to offer?_

"_Ah now where getting somewhere! It's quite simple, really. All you have to do is pray to me. A little bit of blasphemy will do it." _Pip nearly had to stop himself from yelling out God once more.

"How could praying to you be blasphemous?"

"_Well…ha…I'm not exactly a person that you want to be praying to. Not exactly."_

"…You're the devil aren't you?"

"_No. Look, my grip is weakening. I was never really good at this. Just, invoke my name and I'll come and sweep you off of your feet."_

"Garr fine! What's your name?" Pip asked irritably. He _still _didn't trust whoever this person was but they were most likely his best shot at living. There was silence from the voice and after a while Pip got worried. He then felt the darkness…change. He couldn't quite explain it. It was like a subtle moving back, like a curtain being drawn so slowly you didn't notice it until it was covering the stage. Soon he was back in the alley on the dirty mattress surrounded by strangers who all had their flies down with the intention to rape him with his eyes open. He could see that everyone was simply stilled, as though they were all statues. He tried to move, thinking that this was his chance to escape then found that he couldn't move either. Time was frozen.

There was a sound, a tiny pop and suddenly there was movement. A person with the mask of a boar on straddled Pip, holding a bottle full of something clear and gooey. Pip struggled underneath the weight but it did no good. He was still praying, oddly enough. He could vaguely remember what the voice had said, but the knowledge of what had transpired was quickly slipping. _Just, invoke my name and I'll come and sweep you off of your feet._

_Problem was you never gave me your name you stupid wanker!_ He thought. A cold wind swept through the alley just as the boar man unscrewed the cap of the bottle and poured the liquid onto his hand. Pip was growing frustrated and weak. He was still muttering his prayer, the words were becoming useless. He felt a sudden anger at them. Praying to God wasn't helping him. In fact, when had it ever helped him, or anyone else? He stopped praying, anger coiling through him. He felt another cold wind sweep through just as he felt two cold fingers sliding underneath him heading towards somewhere personal. He growled, struggling with full force. He punched and snarled and the boar man, startled, removed his fingers and pulled back. His companions did likewise, wondering if they had made some sort of mistake. Pip was not going to go down this way. He was raving, saying nonsense, and then he said something that made complete and utter sense.

"I ekovni eht eman fo eht ecnirP taht sllewD ni eht tsewoL traP fo ehT rufluS seniM, rieH ot soahC dna enutrofsiM, eht retsaM fo llA sniS dna daB sdeeD. I llac nopu miH ni sih nwO emaN, dna sih learethE thgiM ot pleh etims yM siemenE. I llac nopu mih won." **

Pip found himself speechless after that. What the hell had he just said? It seemed to be in a completely different language. Like Latin. Or something equally hard and foreign. It distracted his captors for a moment so he thought that this was his chance to escape. He tensed then bolted, pushing his way through their legs and scrambling on his hands and knees to the entrance of alley. He heard yelling and then he was being dragged back deeper into the dark abyss. He screamed and clawed, reaching out for the entrance. So close….so close…

"Help…." He muttered weakly. They were dragging him back again and he knew that this time there would be no escape.

"_Ah…how I love your helplessness."_

A large and frigid blast of air nearly destroyed the alleyway as it bullied its way inside the tiny space. It surrounded Pip and he lost his breathe, feeling as though he were freezing. It blew everyone else away and as he began to rise in the funnel of air, they rose as well, swirling around and scraping violently against the rough walls. They screamed and grabbed at their clothes, trying to pull them off as it got into their mouths, smothering them. Pip watched all of this in the eye of the storm, turning around in a comfortable manner, air filling his lungs again. Glee filled them as he watched his subjugators suffer. It was exhilarating, watching the people that he despised be tortured more than he had. By this time they had stopped screaming and Pip thought that they had died. The glee left him as quickly as it had come and he felt sick, clamping his hands over his mouth in revulsion.

"_Now, now none of that. Here comes the best part." _In the eye Pip could see that the near rapists were beginning to swell like balloons. They weren't stopping this process as they grew to the size of small cars. He didn't know how they could be that large and still even fit into the narrow space of the alley, but he didn't have to wonder long. The one nearest to him, the one that had been wearing the boar mask earlier, exploded. Literally exploded, like someone had just stuck a giant pin inside of him. Pip screamed as blood and intestines flew everywhere, surrounding him in a gruesome tornado. He covered his eyes with his hands but something—some other force, for he certainly didn't want to see it—made him peek out through the gaps in his hands. He could hear another pop and more gore surrounded him on all sides. He screamed, wanting to get away. Over the howling of the wind and the pops of more people simply exploding Pip could hear raucous laughter. He cried, wanting everything to stop. He didn't want to be here; he wanted to be far away. He wished that none of this was happening, that he was never born.

"_Now my darling I can't make that happen but I can do you one better." _The voice said with its voice simply tinged with rapture. The tornado of horror rose him up into the air until he was above the alleyway. He could see everything below and thankfully the streets were dark. It was the middle of the day and the sun was just dipping the horizon. It kept rising up and up, slowly accelerating and Pip felt panicked. Where the hell was this thing taking him? Pip could barely see the town now.

"_Alright love, last stop. Told you I'd sweep you off your feet, didn't I?"_ The voice asked. Suddenly Pip could feel blood and chunks of humans flesh collapse on him. He screamed, and then made the mistake of looking down. His vision went blurry, and he knew that there was no way he was going to make it.

He was falling.

They found him in the next morning with bits of meat still in his hair and hanging by his underwear on the town's flag pole, the flag having been burned to ashes. With blood on his hands and body, they sent his home, sending him hate glares the whole time.

Pip sat in the dark, staring at nothing and feeling nothing. The blood had dried on him and he wore the makeup of death. He wasn't thinking, he was barely breathing and it was with great surprise that he found himself staring into the still black waters of Stark's Pond in the dead of night wearing practically nothing. He couldn't remember how he got there, what he was doing before. All he felt now was immense guilt. Certainly _he_ hadn't killed those people. But something, that voice had, and he had taken the blame. The townspeople were more against him now than they ever were.

_I need help_. He thought dejectedly. He stepped into the waters of the lake, ignoring the chill of the water. He watched as the water rippled from his impact, spreading outwards and then coming back to him. When he was waist deep, he did the only thing that he thought was appropriate; he prayed.

"_You're such a rude guest, Pip darling. Praying to that thing in my domain. I thought little Brit boys were supposed to be better mannered than that. I must teach you a lesson, hm?"_ Pip ignored the voice, ignored the odd feeling of sinking into the waters of the pond even though he could still breathe. He continued to pray, keeping his eyes closed tightly. He would not let this thing affect him or his faith once again. He clasped his hands together and bowed his head, praying loudly as he felt chains wrap round his wrists and force them apart. He knew that he was somewhere else, the lapping of the pond from his movements had ceased and dimly he could discern the sounds of screaming and crying, but he tried his best to block all that out.

"Pip." The voice from earlier, the voice that he had started to hear weeks ago, spoke again. It was so much more clear, as though the person where actually in the room. It shocked him so much that he opened his eyes, looking around. Immediately, he realized that he was eagle spread on a bumpy surface. On what, he didn't know. He was staring up at the ceiling of a circular room that had a red ceiling. The floor beneath him was glowing a pale red, almost pink. A handsome male face loomed above him. His skin was pale and his eyes were black, pure and utterly black to match his hair. He smirked and Pip's vision tilted, or whatever he was laying on moved and suddenly he could see the boy clearly. He was about his age and wearing a dark blue sweater and black pants with black dress shoes. The entire outfit was partially covered by a long swept black leather jacket. Whenever the boy moved, he could see wisps of smoke coming off the jacket and faces, stretched long in the process of screaming.

"Who are you?" Pip asked. The boy pouted, crossing his arms over his chest and glaring at him in a playful manner.

"You don't remember me?" He asked, stepping closer to Pip. Cold air radiated off of him and Pip struggled against his confines. The smell of cinnamon hit him sharply and Pip stopped immediately, staring. Cinnamon….the same scent in his dreams…..oh God….

The boy grabbed onto Pip's cheeks and pinched them so tightly that blood trickled down them but Pip didn't struggle. The aura around the boy was so cold he could barely feel the pain.

"_Don't ever say his name, don't even bother thinking about it, do you hear me?"_ He hissed furiously. Pip was staring directly into those black orbs and he could see something. Fire. The flames were blossoming deep into those dark eyes and were slowly making their way towards the front, coming to incinerate him.

"No." Pip said. He didn't know where this certain burst of confidence had arose from but he held fast as he looked at those eyes, not blinking as the flames shot up to the front. The heat from them was so intense that he couldn't feel the cold aura anymore and he could feel his eyebrows singe off and his hair burst into flames, but other than that, he felt nothing. The fact that his hair was burning didn't even alarm him; it was more of a pleasant tingling than anything. He was sure that his face wasn't too burned. The boy backed up, sneering at him.

"You're gonna be tough to break….but you will break. I can guarantee it. A little pansy like you won't last." He said, jutting his hands deep into his pockets. He glared at Pip, eyes returning to their black, infinite selves. And then they simply stared at each other.

"I remember you."

"You do? _Tell me my name and I'll give you wishes thrice. I'll only give them once so don't ask me twice._"

"You're Damien. Damien Thorn." At this the boy broke into a wide smile and Pip knew that he had nailed it.

"Very good, my Hellish little Cherub." Damien nodded appreciatively, looking at Pip up and down. He pinned down Pip with a stare and he stared right back, not afraid now that he knew who he was.

"Hm…I can see you're not in the mood for talking right now. A shame, truly. I could show you so much…..I might as well send you back to your realm." And suddenly Pip was getting tunnel vision. The intense smell of cinnamon wafted around him and a sharp pain was stabbed into the back of his head and he screamed, and then he couldn't scream anymore because he was underwater and fighting for breath and heavy chains, so very heavy chains were around him and he was sinking, sinking, dying…..

And suddenly he was on the shore of the lake with the water wrapping around him and with its frigid arms trying to draw him back in, trying so hard but Pip resisted. He dragged himself along with the chains further away, to the bench, where he collapsed. He saw something but couldn't decipher what it was before succumbing to his concussion.

**I invoke the name of the Prince that Dwells in the Lowest Part of The Sulfur Mines, Heir of Chaos and Misfortune, the Master of All Sins and Bad Deeds. I call upon Him in his Own Name, and his Eternal Might to help smite My Enemies. I call upon him now.


	4. Chapter 4

All around Me

Chapter 4

A.N: Can't believe I'm at Chapter 4 already….thanks to everyone who reviewed/Favorite/Followed this story thus far!

"I need your help. You're the only one who I can turn to now."

The words hung in the air. Pip's confidence waned and his eyes slowly trailed down to the red carpet. Father Maxi hummed and took another puff of his cigarette. Pip frowned, but stayed silent, waiting for his response.

"Well, under normal circumstances I would help you but due to recent events…." Father Maxi nodded pointedly at the newspaper. It was opened to the news story of the day. The headline blurred in Pip's vision as tears crept into his eyes. He could still see the black and white grainy photograph that took up most of the page. It was the alleyway. Great black splotches which he knew were maroon were everywhere and he could see pieces of grey fabric. A skull was lodged into one of the walls as a substitute for a brick.

"Please…please…" Pip pleaded. He put his head in his hands and began to sob. The noises filled the room and Father Maxi looked up towards the ceiling, feeling guilty.

"Ugh stop crying! What do you expect me to do about that?" Father Maxi asked jabbing the butt end of his waning cigarette at the headline. Pip raised his head and then shook it when he saw what he was referring to.

"Oh no, not that! I…have a problem….something…keeps…following me…." Pip said fearfully, looking around the room as if Damien could pop up at any minute and whisk him down to Hell. Pip finally calmed down when he rationalized that a demon, even as one as powerful as Damien, couldn't enter holy grounds. He turned his attention back to Father Maxi who was waiting for him to continue.

"It's…a minor demon. I-I…was playing Ouija Board one night and it trashed my house…" He hoped that his wavering tone wouldn't betray the lie.

Father Maxi and gave a disapproving glare over the rim of his glasses.

"An Ouija Board, Pip? I'm very shocked at this." His tone said otherwise, but he did not give Pip a chance to comment on this. "But, being the good Christian that I am, I'll help you." And with that Father Maxi dug inside a hidden draw in his desk for awhile before he pulled out several items. He tossed a rosary beaded necklace at Pip who caught it clumsily and slid a bottle of holy water across the wooden surface towards him as well as a small, golden cross.

"What am I supposed to do with all this?" Pip asked, bundling the things into his arms.

"Use it against the demon. Wear the necklace and keep the cross on you at _all_ times. Sprinkle the holy water where you feel it would be necessary and if you want to trap the demon and banish him then spray the holy water everywhere, but leave a space cleared, preferably a corner. And then say a banishing spell and bam." He explained. He stood up, stretching, making motions with his hands for Pip to go. The flaxen haired youth stood up, slowly making his way to the door while juggling with his items.

"Don't you mean prayer?"

"Huh?"

"You said I should perform a banishing _spell_. Don't you mean a _prayer_?" Pip questioned. He stood inside the doorway, looking over his shoulder. He could see a flash of irritation in the priest's eyes and left quickly before he could suffer repercussions.

"Alright..." He whispered to himself. He felt the necklace around his neck bump against his skin with every step and pressed the cool surface of the cross deep into the palm of his right hand, holding the bottle of holy water in his left. Now that he was out of the church and heading home, he could now feel the danger that presented itself at all corners. There was really nothing keeping Damien from dragging him to Hell and this time for good. Pip hurried home, making quick and furtive glances from side to side every few seconds. Nothing happened to him, not even the unexpected "_Boo!_" as he stepped inside his house. He hurried to his bedroom quickly and slammed the door behind him. He rushed over to his bed and piled himself beneath the sheets, breathing heavily.

"_Jesus loves me this I know_…" He whispered to himself. His heart rate slowed and he closed his eyes, humming the rest.

"Well, aren't you a confident young lad?" A fake British accent sang. Pip screamed, blue eyes opening in shock. He looked around, but he could see nothing around him except for the white cotton sheets.

"…Who's there?" He questioned.

"Tsk…tsk. I would have thought that you would have recognized the sound of my voice by now." Pip gritted his teeth, yanking the sheets off of his head and looking around. There, in the upper right corner of his room Damien floated Indian style upside down. He smirked and Pip could see that his normally black eyes were glowing a malignant red.

"_You play too much. I'm tired of waiting. I'm getting you here, now._" He hissed. Damien dropped to the ground on his feet and stalked his way towards the cowering boy. Pip tried to ignore the rapid thumping of his heart and tried to think. He had to escape. Sweat was running down his face but Pip didn't wipe it away. Damien was coming closer and he could feel intense heat waves coming off of him. Now he was reaching his hand out, trying to grab Pip's left arm…

"_Fuck!" _Damien screamed, flailing backwards. Steam rose off of him as he covered the injured half of his face and Pip shook the now half empty bottle of holy water.

"Stay back!" He cried. He didn't even give Damien a chance to respond for he bolted. For some reason, he didn't even try the door. In his panic, he tensed and then smashed himself into the window. It shattered on the first try and Pip rolled on the ground. Glass embedded itself into this skin but Pip ignored his pain as he ran quickly. He ran to the only place he knew he'd be safe.

He was glad he never looked back as he ran. In the distance he could hear an explosion and the snow around him exploded in red and orange.

"Well, there goes my house." He joked.

"_I'll kill you! Do you hear me?! I'LL KILL YOU!" _ Pip ran even faster, rushing past the grocery store at Damien's enraged cry. It sounded close, too close for comfort. In the distance he could see the church in all its glory. He worked himself even farther, willing his body to go that extra step. He was almost there….

"Not this time."

That was the only thing he heard, only warning he got before Pip could feel arms encircling his waist. He screamed and flailed, yet the arms did not relinquish their grip. He could feel Damien's breathe upon his neck and he cried. How could he be there, merely a good sprint away from the church? He tried to splash some more holy water on Damien but with the way their bodies were positioned, he wouldn't be able to do much damage.

"Let me go you rotten bastard!" Pip demanded. He struggled, fruitlessly. Damien chuckled huskily, placing his lips against Pip's neck. The blonde squeaked and then suddenly relaxed. He knew that struggling was uselessly and expending all this energy would only hurt him in the end. He needed to bide his time and wait to get away.

"Such a cheeky little thing, aren't you?"

"I'm as cheeky as you're a prat."

"So that's to say, very." Damien chuckled again, placing tiny nips along the pale skin, flushing it red. Pip gasped a bit at the mixture of pain and pleasure.

"Do you think I enjoy standing here while you molest my neck? Either you're going to drag me down to Hell and do things there or not!" Pip demanded after about five minutes of him and Damien locked in this odd embrace. Damien gave Pip's neck one last bite before pulling away. Pip whirled around, bottle of holy water raised high but Damien was nowhere to be seen.

"Bloody…prat!" Pip yelled. He sighed, glancing at the church. He shook his head, heading towards the large cathedral. He wouldn't be tormented by Damien again, not if he had to say anything about it.

I have to speculate, corresponding shapes, true, it may seem like a stretch lyrics.


End file.
